It's Not Your Fault
by pleadingthefifths
Summary: After the false abusive past of David comes to light, it begins to take a toll on Abby and as usual Olivia must handle another situation before it goes too far. A least a couple chapters long. Triggers: bulimia, abuse flashbacks, drug dependence, alcohol dependence


Disclaimer: I'm not an Olitz shipper, I ship Olake and Abblivia, Dabby and whatever Leo and Abby's name is, Huck and Quinn (depending) Quinn and Charlie, and Abby and Stephen, but that not relevant to the story its just a disclaimer.

Please review, it's appreciated.

* * *

The aurelian warmth called the sun has filled the sky and replaced itself with a glowing pearl at night several times since the split with David, and she's pretty sure she has the _I'm okay act _nailed to the point where she almost believed it. She's been all smiles and excitement, the way she's supposed to be. However, her facade hasn't stopped Charles from rearing his little ugly head up in her sleep.

Everyone goes through things, they still go to work.

She's resorted to what works, as many bottles as it takes to finally drift into slumber. Even though her prescription Xanax could do the work for her, she's resorted to taking Vyvanse with those, a medication she took when she was younger for ADHD, it wasn't hard to convince her psychiatrist she'd be needing them again. As for the Xanax pills, she hadn't really used them since years after the divorce, but that didn't stop her from getting them filled each month just in case.

Other than the few questionable looks Quinn threw her when she'd catch engage in conversation at lunch while tossing food around on her plate with the illusion of eating it, she's pretty sure nothing's been noticeable enough for anyone to worry about. For all she new Quinn didn't even notice she hadn't taken a single bite.

Huck, on the other hand. Was there even a word to describe him or does his name do him justice in lieu of any definition? Someone hears his name and already knows what they're in for, isn't that better than some random word that means something that reminds people of him?

Either way, _Huck_ was coming very close to treading on thin ice without even knowing skates were required. At least with Abby anyway.

Does he have to know everything? If he does, does he have to repeat it to Olivia of all people? Yeah, maybe everyone except their alleged massacre killing coworker knew something was different since the split with her boyfriend. At least they were kind about it and kept it to themselves.

Today when glossy digits post up papers regarding today's newest client, she can tell it won't be smooth sailing, not when she finds an ex spy staring way too hard at the red sores seeming fairly new on her knuckles. Manicured nails yank her hand from the paper but she knows that won't stop what's to come when cerulean and umber eyes connect. It's as if he can hear her plea not to do what she knows he will and the sorrow from his just confirms he has to. That she was finally getting people to think she's okay so don't ruin it.

* * *

"Uh, Liv?" He knocks gently twice.

"Huck? What's wrong?" Olivia's pen stops writing at the worried look worn on his face, the expression he always wears when he has something to say but doesn't know how to say it.

"Uh, it's probably nothing, but I think Abby's starting up again."

There's nothing but silence to fill the air for a moment. They both know what he's referencing, they were both there during the aftermath, it was right before Harrison came.

"Should I keep an eye on her?"

"No," She's quick to respond, "I'll take care of it."

When it came to Abby it was difficult to chop their relationship down to just one word, or just one thing. Abby was a kaleidoscope, there were so many different sides to her and Olivia's seen every if not most of them, she knows how to handle Abby, how to take care of her and if David were still with her there'd be a time when he'd have to fill Olivia's spot for her and Olivia's not a hundred percent sure he'd be able to handle it.

Olivia walks into the sun lit room to find the litigator and Quinn engrossed in what looked like a rather jubilant conversation. That was nice to see. With everything going on, the rope wrapped around her ribcage and tied to an anchor has been constantly forcing her to remember the damage she'd done to Abby every time she saw the crestfallen figure trying to hold it together.

It's not that she didn't want to see Abby happy, but the situation was too risky. Or at least that's what she told herself, because it's the only part she cared to admit.

"Abby,"

The crimson haired woman finds her cheery morning interrupted, and turns her head, though really it's the ivory rectangles she shoved down this morning that makes everything so cheery.

"Can you step into my office for a minute?"

* * *

"Is there a reason for this?" She waits until she's in the room to let the query fly into the atmosphere.

Olivia begins to work on one of the files on her desk after sitting. As a response to no response, Abby gives her usual side eye before finally taking a seat.

"Liv?" It's slightly riddled with annoyance, but is ignored anyway.

"You seem in a good mood today."

"And that warrants me a trip to the principal's office?" Facetiousness does a good job keeping up with Abby, it should only show that she's fine. So why was she here?

Olivia chuckles, and shakes her head, again not answering her question or glancing up which only furthers to annoy the person across from her.

The scribbles across paper serves as the only sound in the room. Eventually, Abby uncrosses her legs to lean forward this time.

"Liv, will you at least look at me if you're not going to tell me anything else?"

"Have you been eating, lately?" Her pen stops and finally her attention is focused on the lawyer.

"Have I —what?" The question catches her off guard, and wrinkles fill the space between her pushed together eyebrows, but she shouldn't be too surprised based on what happened earlier. She hasn't gotten a question like this in a long time, at least not since her last episode when she and Charles split up.

"Have you been eating?" Olivia wears a stoic look and slows her words down, as if she didn't catch it the first time.

"Are we here to talk about my personal life or do you actually need me to do something? Like I don't know, my job maybe?"

Olivia doesn't take the nerviness to heart, she knows she's not okay, despite the show. She's Abby for god sakes, and this is a mess she created and needs to clean up.

"You know, you sound lot like my therapist, well, my old one. I stopped going to him when I stopped needing him."

"You always need a therapist, Abby." There goes the ink again, scribbling away. "I haven't seen you eat in days, and you know why I have to ask." There's sympathy playing in brown eyes, or at least someone close to it, mimicking gentleness.

Abby looks at the mahogany table, as if she's retreated into that shell he made her, she's seemed to retreat back into her own skin, no longer bold or brave.

"Yeah," She nods, barely. "Yeah, I've been eating, Liv." It's a lie, they both know it yet they let it linger. Up until russet digits open a drawer and place one third of a plastic wrapped subway on the table.

"Are we here to talk about my personal life or do you actually need me to do something? Like I don't know, my job maybe?"

"Abby, just answer the question."

"Yes! I've been eating, satisfied?"

"You know I have to ask."

Olivia ignores the exasperation in her voice and looks up at Abby, finally, pulls out a wrapped up half subway out her drawer and places it on the table.

Abby simply looked at the sandwich as if she didn't know the insinuation behind it. "You've been yelling at me the last two weeks and now you want to eat lunch with me?" There's a pause and finally the sarcasm comes with a feigned grin. "Is this a promotion?"

"Abby." Her voice is stern, like a warning. To be fair, it was the week before last. Yeah, maybe she showed Abby a lot of tough love, but she had her reasons. Reasons Abby would never understand. "Eat the sandwich."

Abby just gazes at it, the sight of it makes her stomach hurt, she wants to, really she does but soon that sandwich turns into a memory reliving in a place she was happy keeping it away from.

* * *

_A loud smack makes it way across her face before any words do, he punishes first and reprimands later._

_"What have I told you about cooking this shit?"_

_Her hand reaches up to her cheek to caress the red mark he's left in his anger, before looking at what had caused such a disruption._

_"It's just a cake."_

_"It's just a cake." He mocks._

_"Abby, you only have one job which is to look good for me, if you aren't beautiful anymore I have no use for you and you're worthless. Are you really that stupid?"_

_The silence only furthers to anger him, that and the azure eyes that seem to want to cut him to pieces._

_"Hey, I'm talking to you." His hand grips her chin and forces her to look at him._

_"Are you stupid?" She just shrugs, she knows that's what he wants from her, to roll over, to know he's the one who makes the rules._

_"You might want to fix how your looking at me, you wouldn't want me to get upset."_

_That was a good day, compared to all the others._

_He wasn't drunk that day, this day he was._

_It's no secret Abby had a knack for baking, she was at it and it helped her cope throughout all the chaos. Now she wasn't allowed to do it anymore._

_The staggering man holds a nearly empty bottle from his hand as he walks toward her at the dinner table and towers over her, his hand lands right in front of her plate while the rest of him is bent over her chair from behind so now the bottle and his hand can loom over her. She's not sure if it's insibriety or an intimidation tactic, knowing him it's probably both._

_"Didn't you already have dinner?" His voice is groggily, but understandable in the slow way he talks._

_"I got hungry—"_

_Clamor slices her sentence short with a bottle shattered on the table, and a lithe anatomy flinches back and scrunches up under the much more athletic man as to avoid becoming one of the stray shards victims as her food had been._

_"That's not what I fucking asked you!" The back of his hand greets a pale cheek and sends her flying from the chair to the floor in seconds._

_For a moment she can't move, breath practically crawling out of her lungs to survive as fingers desperately try to move hands and change her prostrate position. She's usually speedy in this adjustment, and finally she's sat up in a position where she could use her hands and feet to scoot away as unlikely as it is. Maroon shines bright across porcelain skin, and burns just as well._

_"Chip..please," It's a breathy cry for mercy though her crease filled countenance and downward tilted mouth said all that needed to be said._

_Her suspiration remains shallow, she's still trying to catch up to the wind knocked out of her._

_"Get up." His teeth are grit as he marches toward her with both fists balled by his side._

_"No," Her words trembles as her head shakes no, scooting backward until she realizes how futile the motion is._

_"I said get up!"_

_She flinches at the strident yell, and eventually finds herself being forced on her feet with a fist grabbing her silk collar._

_"What did I say?!" His face is at least a couple centimeters to hers. Her heart pounds in her chest, as if her internal organs are now a band and her most vital one is the mighty wardrum._

_"I-I'm sorry, Chip I-I won't do it again, I promise." Her stringed imploration was met with a closed fist on her unassualted cheek and propelled her to a the floor._

_"I know you won't."_

_Dampness soon seeped through from her temple through her hair, the sound of air sucked through teeth comes from her as she slowly sits up, a hand pressed to her forehead then gazed at. Just as she though, a garnet color stains her fingers. She'll have to hope it doesn't need stitches, Charles would only be more upset if this was a surgical matter._

_Her fingers twitch under her gaze, as if she hasn't seen her own blood by now as if she's not used to it._

_She barely has the chance to look up before his foot impels her stomach, eliciting a yelp from her. "I told you no more overeating!" She's curled up, knees to chest, her best self defense to protect her stomach, and yet he kicks again and again, she hopes her cries helped him stop when the crushing blows stop._

_"Please, Chip. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"_

_At this point she's sobbing with her eyes squinted close, and as soon as she thinks safe, lazuli optics open to see feet floundering back with the rolling pin in his hand._

_"Chip," It's a heavy breath through the word._

_"Sit up."_

_She shakes her head feverntly which only serves to anger him more._

_"If I have to make you sit up..."_

_That's all that's needed through grit teeth for the reluctant figure to straighter up, arm still covering her midsection._

_"I've already told you what happens if you don't stop eating out of turn, and you didn't listen, I think you secretly like making me upset." His hand moves to gently caress her searing cheek._

_"You brought this on yourself, you think I want to hurt you? I don't but when you don't listen you make me have to do it, honestly it's probably hurting me more than you."_

_His hand leaves her visage as he reels the baking tool bake, she's already flinching, and he launches it forward with full force. First at her back, and when she's stuck no longer able to hold herself up, he begins slamming it down on her. It only furthers the irate emotions, and he begins switching between the pin and kicking her, anywhere except the face. She's pretty sure when it's over and her screams have gone unheard, he might've broken her ribcage this time. She lies there still, shaking, as cries are to soft and barely able to be heard, face against the floor just hoping he's done this time._

_When he comes back it's with a mirror, besides the knot on one cheek, the dry blood stain on her forehead, and the no longer existing red mark on her other one, she doesn't look that bad neck up. Neck down is another story, there's spots where cherry seeps through clothing, and she's sure there's black and blue to be seen as well._

_"See, how beautiful you are? You don't want to ruin that do you?" He presses a kiss to her head, and apologizes, while Abby continues to shake._

_There are other moments too._

_"Come look." He points to the mirror she stands in front of. "Look at how much weight you gained, how am I supposed to love anyone like that?"_

_Even though it was a political marriage it did start out with love, or at least on Abby's part it did._

_"Do you know how lucky you are that I chose you? Let's face it, no one else is ever going to love you, I'm all you have. I'm starting to wonder why I even keep you around. You don't listen, and now your adamant on becoming completely useless. Maybe I should just leave you."_

_She should be thrilled at the threat, she'll finally be free._

_Maybe that's what she's afraid of. He's bent her so many ways she won't ever find her way home, she doesn't even remember who she was or what she liked before he came around. He's here to keep her stable, realistic, in her place._

_"Please don't," She whispers._

_"What was that?"_

_"Please don't leave me." It's muttered this time her head towards her lap._

_He gets some euphoric high off this, off of owning her confidence._

_"Do you know how completely worthless, and pathetic you are? Why shouldn't I leave you?"_

_"Hey, I'm talking to you." He prompts after no response._

_She shrugs, not able to make eye contact._

_"Say it you're worthless, look in the mirror and say it!" He grabs the back of her head and forces her to look up and say it._

_"Say it if you don't want me to leave you!"_

_"I-I'm-I'm worthless—" She barely manages to hold back any cracks willing to ruin the sentence._

_"Tell me how worthless and pathetic you are without me, and how no one will ever love you because your nothing but a stupid waste of space."_

_He wraps his hand around her throat to prompt it._

_She struggles to speak, yet looks at herself in silver. "I'm worthless and -" She pauses as he urges her to continue. Saline from her eyes falling down. "I'm worthless and no one's ever going to love me because I'm a - I'm a useless waste of space and I'm nothing." Her voice cracked on the end._

_He's made her do that a lot to trap her, keep her on a leash. Sometimes he did let her eat extra, but he made her throw it up after or starved for a few days even though she made the food._

_Eventually she started seeing what he was seeing, and started measuring herself too often. On days where she wouldn't eat after too long he'd beat her, and accuse her of trying to jeopardize him by starvation, but she had only started doing what he wanted._

_After their divorce it was difficult but eventually she started baking again, she started eating all she could because there was no one there to tell her otherwise, but sometimes she'd find herself spitting it out with a toothbrush. Then there was the time Huck walked in on her doing it at their new workplace, unisex bathrooms, and her little secret got our to the one person she didn't want it to._

_Sometimes, she gets in these episodes where she can't eat because it makes her sick. When she looks at herself sometimes she still sees someone too overweight who never really was, but now she can't stop thinking about how disgusting she looks and how she needs to stop eating before it ruins her._

* * *

"Abby," She calls. "Abby."

Eventually she's pulled out of her trance and she's lucky the Xanax works because her lungs are rapid and she's pretty sure she can barely breathe at the moment.

"Abby, Abby," Olivia moves from her chair and toward her, "Abby, relax." She tries to reassure her friend, eyes wide and worried as she rubs her back.

About five more minutes of this and she's become fairly back to normal, a gust of wind blown through her mouth as her breath regulates itself.

"Is this Huck? Did he say something?"

"That's not important," Olivia responds from her seat across the table and pulls her sandwich out. "Are you going to eat?" The fixer's fingers begin to unwrap plastic and as she realizes she's fallen on nonlistening ears she trys again.

"Abby, just a piece of it. Come on, it's Gettysburger, who doesn't love Gettysburger?"

The playful tone and smile is enough for Abby to convince herself to get it over with, she'll do something about it later and if that doesn't work, she just won't eat.

So, they started eating their sandwiches, and Abby finished hers before Olivia, which now only helped to make her feel dirty and sick to her stomach.

"So... can I go now?" The redhead is fairly hopeful, a smile upon her face.

"In an hour." That was enough to wipe that grin away.

"I have to pee, Liv."

"Well, it'll have to wait." Mostly because Olivia knows all off Abby's tricks, and she's fallen for it.

So they waited.


End file.
